Street’s Favorite Albums of 2021
It’s been an odd year for music.
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It’s been an odd year for music.
On Nov. 26, 2021, legendary composer and lyricist Stephen Sondheim passed away. The quintessential voice of the American musical, the 91–year–old writer had seemed like an impenetrable force. Nobody was prepared to lose one of theatre’s most revered figures, and he left Broadway devastated in his wake.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year: that’s right, December, the month of being assaulted by Spotify Wrapped Instagram stories from every single person you follow. Since I have Apple Music, I thought I’d toss my own music taste in the ring, relating each song to the impact it's had on my life this past year. Feel free to judge my taste, ignore it, or take it as a recommendation.
In Oct. 2012, when I was 12 years old, my aunt gave me a gift: a copy of Red by Taylor Swift. By late Nov., my mom had limited the amount of times I could play it in the car during the week, leaving me no option but to download it on my iPod and replay it incessantly. I’m not exactly sure why I treasured it so much at the time—I definitely couldn't relate to many of the experiences she sang about. Nevertheless, I lived vicariously through her music. I listened and daydreamed about being “happy, free, confused, and lonely in the best way.” Now that I’m actually 22—well, almost—listening to Red (Taylor’s Version) feels like a gift all over again. It allows me to relive the emotions I once experienced nine years ago—backed by an arsenal of new memories and life experiences.
CDs and cassettes are quickly going out of style, but vinyl sales have skyrocketed. Resurgence in this music format seems at odds with the simultaneous explosion in streaming service popularity, but vinyl holds a special place in the hearts of music enthusiasts and represents a nostalgic artifact from the twentieth century. The combination of renewed interest and supply chain issues resulting from the pandemic has led to demand far exceeding supply. As a result, major artists have a monopoly on vinyl supplies, resulting in limited opportunities for smaller artists.
There is great debate on Twitter about who the biggest girl group is right now. For some, it's the K–Pop giant BLACKPINK, who captivated the world following their 2019 Coachella set and 2020’s THE ALBUM. For others, it might be the British group Little Mix, who has had consistently solid showings with their past few albums and is arguably at the height of their fame.
Most artists might not be compelled to change their approach to music right after earning a Grammy. Adam Granduciel, the frontman of the band The War on Drugs, didn’t follow this notion—opting to depart sonically from the band’s last project, the award–winning A Deeper Understanding. Instead of moving their style forward into new territory, however, he decided to scale it back, shedding modern and neo–psychedelic elements and further embracing the sounds of heartland rock. While the aged genre has always been on the periphery of the group’s direction, it comes into clear view on I Don’t Live Here Anymore. The result is an album that, despite its cold and snowy cover, is warm and uplifting.
Let me set the scene: It’s a November morning, and after a candy high, you get out of bed and head towards class. You stop by a coffee shop, in need of caffeine, and patiently wait in line for a peppermint mocha latte when you hear the speaker playing that oh–so–familiar song, with its diva vocals, jingling instrumental, and never–ending sense of Christmas joy.
For three nights on the first weekend of November, PDGC (Penn Dance and Glee Club) filled the Iron Gate Theater with spectators for their 20th annual collaboration. The Penn Dance Company, Penn’s premier performing modern dance company, and the Penn Glee Club, the longest continually running glee club in the country, joined forces to present their fall show, “Are You Watching Closely?” The two–hour show alternated between dance numbers, covers of songs with an accompanying live band, and a cappella.
“Before we begin, I just wanted to let you know my [friend] told me that your music got her through her break–up, and she’s very grateful for it and for you.”
When I think of Ed Sheeran, I think of my thirteen–year–old self scrolling through tumblr. I think of warm drinks and cozy blankets, listening to the soothing guitar strings that defined his debut album + (Plus). I remember listening to “The A Team” and “Drunk,” pretending I could relate to the lyrics despite my limited life experiences. In my head, the image of Sheeran and his music had remained pretty stable since then—even through his new albums and newfound status as one of Gen Z’s big inside jokes.
JPEGMAFIA traveled to Philadelphia on Halloween night to perform old and new songs at Union Transfer. After the opener—Detroit–based rapper Zelooperz—got the crowd going, an audience of costumes and complimentary masks (featuring 8–bit art of JPEGMAFIA) awaited the rapper. When he finally arrived, he gifted the fans with a lively and aggressive performance.
On Oct. 29, JEON SOMI dropped XOXO, her debut album after two long years since she emerged on the scene with her first single, 2019's “Birthday.” This eight–track album has a mixture of up–tempo pop anthems to mid–tempo R&B–inspired love songs, yet SOMI struggles to find her voice throughout the album. On top of that, the record deals with themes of love, romance, and relationships, well–worn subjects in the music industry—but XOXO doesn't add anything particularly new.
By now, ABBA owns the number 17, just like Taylor Swift’s association with 13 and 22. But their chokehold on the music industry is more than the resurgence of “Dancing Queen” on birthdays. No other act comes close to ABBA’s role in shaping the pop music we know and love today, and it’s not hard to think that their legacy will continue for decades to come.
“I’ve always felt like I have no room to fail,” Sean Lawrence says to me. It’s a fear that’s worked in Sean’s favor, who has one of the most polished discographies of any rising artist I’ve discovered. Known professionally as sectiontoo, who prefers to go by his stage name, masterfully produced his first album Portrait with the lyrical maturity of an experienced artist. sectiontoo’s commitment to his craft is minutely eclipsed by his talent, and he’s not shy about taking credit where it's undeniably due.
Following the release of his widely praised All My Heroes Are Cornballs in 2019, Barrington Hendricks, better known as JPEGMAFIA, delved even deeper into his rap niche. In the next two years, Hendricks dropped two extended plays (EPs), appropriately titled EP! and EP2!, that experimented further with the already inventive genre. His fourth album LP!, combines the melodic nature of his more recent output with his signature avant—garde production to create one of his most expressive and unique works yet.
Radiohead is one of the largest rock bands of the 1990s and the 2000s. Their trajectory from their decent debut to their artistic peak at the turn of the century was unprecedented and thrilling. The band’s journey can now be streamed on Bandcamp, as they recently released their discography on the platform. The move came just weeks before they planned to drop a reissue of two albums, Kid A and Amnesiac, that adds unreleased B–sides from the era.
In the moments leading up to Lucy Dacus’ performance on October 20th at Philadelphia’s Union Transfer, a series of home videos showing Dacus' upbringing were projected onto the stage. The audience saw videos of newborn Lucy in her mother's arms, to an elementary–aged Lucy singing to the camera, with her face getting closer and closer with each note, until she was kissing the lens. Later, we see Lucy as an awkward teenager: the girl who experienced the first loves, heartbreaks, and more–than–friends friendships that became the fodder for Dacus’ third album, Home Video.
Singer–songwriter Gracie Abrams released her first EP, minor, during July 2020, in the midst of the pandemic. From her bedroom, she was able to reach listeners through her melancholic songwriting and soft vocals. The EP was accepted by Abrams’ fans with open arms. It was a product of its time, an intimate and nostalgic project that allowed teenagers in quarantine to long for a better time. As a whole, the project is special because of how utterly personal and relatable it is. Now, as the air turns chilly and the leaves signify the arrival of fall, Abrams’ music becomes a perfect companion for the season.
The sound of Pop–punk is unmistakable—fast tempo, infectious melody, a wall of sound composed of roaring electric guitars and thumping drums, and very angry youth.
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